Retribution by Regina Smeltzer Page B

stay there. I told him how well you care for his house, what a good woman you are.”
    “And he said yes?”
    The hope in her voice added to the spikes already in his head. “He said no.”
    “ Sì . You have done your best.”
    “I’ll arrange a moving van for you.” He ended the call, knowing that because of the size of the family he could have made an exception, but no…the lead. The headache devoured his brain. He closed his eyes, seeking relief, but instead the limp body of his newborn daughter filled the anticipated blankness. A knife pierced his heart. He stumbled from the office. “I’m going home.”
    Latoya stared at his face. She knew. She had been in Darlington when it had happened.
    ~*~
    Roger drove blindly, the pounding in his head keeping time with his pulse. Stumbling into the kitchen, he gulped two pain killers and collapsed on the living room couch, the pressure between his temples intense. How much more could he stand?
    An hour later, with the worst of the pounding gone, he walked to the bedroom and closed the blinds. From the top shelf, he pulled down the fireproof box, lowered it to the bed, and inserted a key into the lock.
    Most days his fingers wandered through the contents, randomly drifting from one item to the next: his marriage license, Elizabeth’s birth certificate, the title to a non-existent house. He would linger over pictures of smiling faces, an envelope with a snip of auburn baby hair. And then he would come to the death certificates on the bottom of the box: three of them.
    Ignoring the memories, he dug through the box, searching for the blue thumb drive, an ordinary object purchased at an office supply store that now earned placement among his treasures.
    The sound of his fingers tapping against the desktop seemed loud as he waited for the computer to boot up. He logged in with an encrypted ID, pulled up the new data he had sent himself, and downloaded the contents to the thumb drive.
    He stared at the list of sub-files. He had made them all, added content as needed. Choosing one, he opened it, typed for a couple of minutes, hit save, and logged out. The thumb drive was returned to the metal box, and then the box was locked and shoved deep onto the shelf.
    ~*~
    By the time Roger arrived at Ted and Trina’s, Paul’s car was already in the drive. He had wanted to show up early and watch Lillian’s face when Paul walked through the door, gauge her interest in the man, but no big deal. There would be opportunities to check out Lillian’s feelings throughout the evening. After a cursory push to the front doorbell, Roger let himself into the foyer.
    “Hey Roger, right on time,” Bill said from the hall. “Put these on the table, will you?” He handed Roger a stack of dinner plates and lumbered back to the kitchen.
    The smell of basil, oregano, and thyme permeated the air. And garlic. Always garlic. Roger whiffed appreciatively as his stomach growled in hunger. He had missed lunch. Again.
    Laughter erupted from the kitchen. While Roger stood listening for Lillian’s voice, Paul, his fist full of silverware, walked into the room with Lillian close behind, holding napkins.
    Always attractive, but tonight there seemed to be a special glow about Lillian, as though a stage light had been assigned just for her. With eyes flashing and a smile that seemed to be ongoing, she didn’t look like a helpless maiden in need of rescue.
    Jimmy, Sandra’s six-year-old grandson, ran through the door and slid to a stop on the wooden floor. “Miss Lillian, I have another one for you!” His blue eyes sparkled.
    Lillian waved the napkins in the air. “No more!” she said, laughing. “My sides will split open if you tell me one more joke.”
    “After we eat?” he asked.
    “After we eat.”
    “Hi, Roger.” Lillian smiled and nodded toward the plates in his hand. “Looks like you have a job, too. Trina runs a tight kitchen.”
    Thankfully, she said nothing about the ruckus of the other